I Had Legs Once
by TheLilithMachine
Summary: A retrospective on how the four kids in the ghost gang met early fates, and each other, one by one. Warnings for being rather dark at times, and implied violence.
1. Chapter 1

Clyde wished he could remember more.

There had been unusual noises out in the barn that one night. He didn't know what had caused him to be the first person to hear them, but his first worry was for his sisters in the next room. He crept out of his bedroom, finding the cottage still dark, with everyone else asleep; the family's jackets, cloches, and caps hung undisturbed in the front hall.

Someone slowly entered the front hall behind Clyde, and he jumped a bit, poising his big body for an attack, but was relieved to see it was his father.

The two locked eyes, uneasy, before his father said, "...You heard it too?"

"Yeah, pop..." Clyde looked around uncomfortably. "I heard the dog snoring in ▓▓▓▓▓'s room, so it can't be him out there."

"I'll wake your brothers up," his father had said, hurrying back up the hall. "Go ring the porch bell. Maybe that'll get 'em off the property."

Clyde ran out into the damp midnight air, not sure if he was shivering from the cold outside, or from something else. He reached the porch bell – the one they rang for meals or when it was time for chores – and yanked on the fraying rope for dear life. The bell sent a clattering din throughout the farm, and he rang it as hard as he could until he was sure even the ▓▓▓▓▓▓ family up the road would hear.

Movement darted out of the east barn. Someone had a crate of hens, trying to bolt back to a gas-fueled buggy he'd never seen before. Clyde screamed back at the house, "Chicken thief! We've got a chicken thief!"

"Stay on the porch!" ▓▓▓ yelled in the living room.

Clyde barely heard ▓▓▓ as he bolted across the yard to the cart, waving his clenched fists in the air. He had a large build but he'd never been in a fight before. But, he decided, it was worth a shot so long as some stranger in the night didn't run off with the hens he'd loved taking care of.

The intruder must've been someone from the city. He didn't remember a face, just the smell of unwashed hair and fire smoke. All Clyde remembered was his fists making impact, one hard enough to knock the man back, dropping the crate, releasing frightened chickens out of the way.

People were yelling behind Clyde. Someone from the ▓▓▓▓▓▓ house was driving up the lane. The man before Clyde panicked, grabbing something from the back of his open buggy, swinging it up over his head.

A logger's axe.

Things went white.

* * *

Clyde had waited the most out of the four. He at one point considered haunting his old town, but he didn't want to see his family living without him, or the chicken thief. He preferred to not have a face to the thief at all.

Memories faded. _Clyde Filbert ▓▓▓▓▓_. He floated through limbo or explored the living world as much as he could; it was hard to do during the day, knowing he'd accumulate stares for his lack of visible legs and his soft unearthly glow. Cloches and spats in the city slowly were replaced with beehives and leather jackets.

It was almost a shock when another kid arrived in purgatory.

"Hey."

Clyde had been stacking rocks in the shape of a little house when he heard Inky for the first time. Clyde turned, finding a lanky boy about his age floating not too far from him; the boy was clearly uncomfortable with his surroundings.

Clyde didn't know how to respond. "...What happened to you?"

"I was in a fight." The boy looked down at his new blue glow. "My friends and I were behind a pinball arcade, and then..."

"It's okay," Clyde said reassuringly. "I don't remember what happened to me sometimes."

"They called me Inky." The boy gestured to his hair. "It was 'cause 'a my hair. And I'd slick it back like this, see?"

"Is that what kids do up there now?" Clyde was genuinely curious.

"Well, yeah. What decade are _you_ from?!"

"Dunno. 1920s, I think?"

"O-Oh. I was joking but...sorry, man."

"I'm not offended. I'm kinda glad there's more kids in limbo here."

Inky was quiet for a moment; he didn't know what to do about the current situation. He sputtered, "I-I remember there were ten of us in that alley. Dunno how many of 'em were my friends. I remember a gun, and someone calling my bluff. A-And the..."

Clyde noticed Inky seemed to be on the verge of tears. The larger teen looked around quickly, soon grabbing a small, thin rock and handing it to him. Inky only gaped at this.

"Wh-what do I do with this?!"

"I'm building a town over here," Clyde said, gesturing to the row of little clumped houses, giving him a reassuring smile. "You can help."

Inky cried.

At least he was safe here.


	2. Chapter 2

"Pinky, c'mon, you're gonna make a mistake—"

"_I'm_ the one making a mistake?!" Pinky's hands shook around the pistol grip. "_One_ of us said _he_ had a late shift at the Texapac Station! And look where you are now!"

Pinky didn't know the name of the girl who ▓▓▓▓ had tangled up with him in his bed. She didn't want to know, either. All she knew was that the taste of bile was stinging in the back of her throat, and her feet felt grafted to the floor.

Her finger slipped. She hadn't intended to use the pistol beyond waving it around like a prop. But the next thing she knew, her boyfriend's head had been turned into wall paint. The other girl's face begun to twist in horror as she begun to comprehend the situation, and panicking, Pinky whirled to the side and turned the pistol on her.

She ran. She didn't want to look at it. She wasn't proud.

Pinky stumbled out through the front door of her now ex-boyfriend's apartment, gasping as she ran, gasps turning to the slightest giggles turning to full out hysterical laughter. She lost a shoe while running down the stairs. Someone was shouting after her as she rushed through the building lobby. Pinky didn't turn around.

Blasting out into the night air, Pinky kept running straight up the busy downtown road. Her mind was at a loss of what to do. _I'm in big, big trouble, _she thought. _I can't believe I just did that. I can't believe that trashbag's gone. I can't believe it's because of m-_

She didn't see the truck come towards her.

* * *

It took her a moment to open her eyes. She couldn't remember much of anything that had happened before; names and times even seemed to have disappeared from her memory. Pinky felt weightless, tired, but cold. Around her there was a faint dusty smell in the air, and a grey skyline greeted her above her.

She tried to sit up, but her feet didn't touch the ground. Her legs seemed to disappear into a mint blue haze. She screamed.

Voices came from not too far away, ones that sounded like other teenagers. She stood – or at least tried to – apprehensively, waiting to see who or what was coming.

Three boys came around a corner of rocks: a big, harmless-looking guy, a scrawny potential greaser, and a littler ginger boy. Her eyes darted among all of them, trying to analyse their intent.

"Are..." The smallest kid asked carefully. "...Are you new?"

"I died, didn't I?" Pinky asked in a small voice.

"Hey, come on, don't answer a question with more questions," the lanky boy started to say, before Pinky grabbed him by the collar.

"You watch your mouth, meathead!" She shouted. "I'm scared, all right?! Just tell me where I am!"

"You're kind of just...here." The big guy spoke, his voice soft and sort of squeaky. "Between realms, if you will. Most of the spirits out here are rather standoffish, but we like to stick together."

"Yeah," the little one said. "It's less boring this way. I'm Blinky. The dork you're holding onto is Inky."

"Hi," Inky said, as he was let go."

"And I'm Clyde. Do you want a tour?"

"I'm...I'm Pinky." She stood there, defeated – not by any of the boys before her, rather, by whatever had sent her here. There was a pain in her chest but she had no inclination to cry. "What...what do we do?"

"Kinda hang out. Maybe explore the living world." Blinky shrugged. "It's like a mall meetup except everyone's dead."

"You can still sort of eat like this," Inky added.

Pinky laughed a bit, but the laugh still had a tinge of nervousness. "...All right. Let's go somewhere you guys like."

"Sure!" Clyde exclaimed, overjoyed. "Let's go to the old amusement park up in the living. There's a great place to sightsee at the top of the haunted house."

The four found there way there fast enough, maybe faster than Pinky would have expected, with the newfound ability to float and glide. The amusement park had been closed for business because of the civil war, and some of the attractions appeared rotting and shot at. Clyde lead them up to a gazebo-like hut at the top of the haunted house, and he had been right; the spot was in great condition, and the four of them had an excellent view of the night sky over Pacland Park.

"If it's not too personal..." Clyde asked carefully, settling. "What happened to you, Pinky?"

"I...I think I remember a truck." She decided she'd get to trust these boys before she told them about the gun. "Is it still 1991 out here?"

"Yeah. I think so?" Clyde looked confused. "It's been a lot of time for me. I got axed by a chicken thief in 1924."

Inky sat up. "Show him the thing you do, Clyde!"

"Well, uh, okay..." Clyde suddenly split clear in half, the edges of his halves glowing like the edge of his limbs. Pinky yelped in disgust, while Blinky covered his eyes and Inky laughed his face off.

"Ew! Don't do that without warning!" Blinky shouted. "Inky, you only find that funny 'cause you can do that with your head!"

"Oh yeah!" Inky turned to Pinky, pointing at the side of his face. "I got shot during a gang standoff in like 1955. Wanna see me do it?"

Pinky wished she could pull off her shoe and throw it at him. "Yuck! No!"

"Well, I guess I've got the least crazy story here..." Blinky sat back. "I fell off my school's roof while trying to get someone's ball out of the gutters. Maybe that was 1973."

"I see..." Pinky looked out at the night sky. "I can't believe this. There's a war going on all over the place back in my hometown, and I only get killed by some stupid truck."

"I've been seein' more ghosts in limbo lately because of the war..." Inky looked at the ground. "I don't like how young some of them are."

"Yeah. They don't really wanna hang out with us, either." Blinky shook his head.

"What made you guys stick together?" Pinky was still staring out at the city skyline. She thought she saw a flare. "Why did you guys hang out like this for so long?"

"Who knows?" Inky said dismissively. "Maybe it's 'cause we all went too soon."

"I just was glad there were people my age to talk to," Clyde added.

"I thought you guys were funny, so I stayed for the ride," shrugged Blinky.

Pinky nodded, turning to face them, misty-eyed. "Well...room for one more in this little gang?"

"There always is," Clyde said with a friendly nod.

And that was the start.


End file.
